


Thief

by CuriousThimble



Series: Birds of A Feather [7]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Zevran fails, locked chests, lockpicking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 11:03:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20007253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriousThimble/pseuds/CuriousThimble
Summary: Zevran's skills as a lockpick come to light.





	Thief

Tabris covers her mouth with her hand, trying to smother her giggles. Beside her, Alistair shifts from one foot to the other and sighs, now and then looking from the elf’s back to the sky as if the Maker will reach down and save him.

“Are you quite sure you meant  _ lockpicking _ when you said you could pick locks?” Leliana asks, each word clipped and sharp. 

“Yes, I did,” Zevran says for the tenth time. Deep in concentration, he sticks his tongue out while he works. “No man can do his best work while being watched so closely!”

Tabris’ eyes move to Leliana, who meets her gaze only for a moment before looking away. The redheaded bard blushes prettily, and Tabris knows she’s thinking of the night before when Zev had stolen into their tent naked and thinking only of being with Tabris before his turn to stand watch began. She had been unclothed and moaning beneath him when there was a small, delicate cough to their side and he finally realized she wasn’t alone, he had invited Leliana to join them for the night. 

To Tabris’ relief- and a little regret- Leliana had politely turned him down and offered to take his watch. 

“Uh, Zev, you  _ do _ remember that you had an audience just last night, don’t you?” she asks, barely containing her laughter.

“That was different,” he mutters. “I am a wonderful lover. Worthy of admiration.”

“And yet,  _ Tesoro, _ you’re a terrible thief,” she giggles. 

“I am a  _ great _ thief.”

“Maker’s breath, we’ll be here all day,” Alistair growls and shoves Zevran aside. “If you can’t pick a damn lock, then smash it!” he tells him and slams the pommel of his sword on the lock. 

Zevran watches the lock fall apart before giving Alistair a condescending look. “I could have simply picked that, you know,” he says.

Tabris’ small giggle sparks a firestorm of laughter. Leliana joins her, clutching her sides, and before long both women are on the ground clinging to one another. Tears streak down their cheeks as they laugh until they can do nothing but wheeze while Zevran glares at Alistair. 

“You were never going to get it open,” Alistair tells him, sheathing his sword and turning to rummage in the chest.

“I would have if you three hadn’t been cackling behind me!” he says hotly, waving his arms around. 

Tabris finally gets just enough of a breath to laugh even harder.  _ He was never going to get it, _ she thinks, her laughter changing to high-pitched howls of glee. Leliana just falls back, doing her best to catch her breath and stop laughing.

Zevran’s glare turns to Tabris, and he nudges her with the toe of his boot. “You can stop that any day,” he says dryly.

“I’m,” she gasps for air, gulping it in like she’s been underwater, “sorry.”

“You are not.” He squats in front of her, the irritation in his eye changing into something far more dangerous. “But you will be.”

Tabris swallows a giggle and stares at him with wide eyes. His own amber eyes glint like the razor edge of a knife; in spite of his predatory look, she feels her mouth go dry with lust.  _ What does he mean to do? _ She wonders, feeling like a bird in a cage under his gaze.

“Zevran…” Alistair warns slowly.

Zevran gives her a sharp grin and snatches one of her braids, twisting it between his fingers and using it to tug her closer. Desire courses through her at the way his eyes fall to linger on her throat, even knowing how insane it is to want the man threatening her right now. “W-Will I?” she murmurs, chest heaving. “How so?”

His eyes move up to her lips, lingering there before meeting her eyes. She leans forward, meaning to kiss him, but he pulls away quickly. “You’ll see,” he says, dropping the braid.

Tabris can only watch him stand and walk over to inspect the chest, aching with need for him. Behind her, Leliana giggles and sits up, resting her head on Tabris’ shoulder. “I think we should put a padlock on our tent strings,” she quips. “There’s no way he’d wake me up that way.”

Tabris looks down at her, a blush spreading up her neck at the reminder of how easily she had given in to his whispered seduction even though her tentmate was just a few feet away. “I might be joining Morrigan in her tent,” she says, biting her lip. “I doubt he’d be willing to risk her wrath.”

Leliana laughs and kisses her cheek. “Afraid he’ll stab you in your tent tonight?” she giggles, climbing to her feet. “Let’s go see what Alistair found.”

Tabris stays where she is, watching Leliana and Zevran tease one another. Oghren had been too drunk to walk this morning, making him absolutely useless in the Brecilian Forest. Wynne and Morrigan had remained at the Dalish camp to help with the wounded, and since Sten felt it was his duty to watch their two mages- she didn’t understand it and didn’t bother to ask for more- that had left the four of them to traipse through the woods looking for werewolves. 

“I could teach you how to do that,” Leliana tells him, nodding to the broken lock. 

Zevran gives Tabris a mischievous look as she comes up beside him. “I thought I’d ask my lady if she wouldn’t mind,” he says, putting an arm over her shoulders. 

“ _ Someone _ needs to,” Alistair chuckles. “I nearly died of old age waiting for you to pick that lock.”

_ It wasn’t so long ago that he wouldn’t have done that, _ she thinks with a small smile. It takes everything in her not to cuddle closer and eliminate the distance between them.  _ He didn’t like to be touched casually but look at him now.  _ “If you like.”

“And yet you hesitate. Are you afraid to be alone with me?” he jokes. “I assure you, sweet Warden, I will only ravish you if you ask.”

“She’s probably worried you’ll kill her after your little scene just now,” Leliana says, taking a bow from Alistair. “Oh, this is nice. Elven,” she adds. “Is this heartwood?”

“How would I know?” Alistair asks. “You’re the one who shoots things.”

Zevran’s jaw drops and he stares down at her. All his mischief and teasing is gone, replaced by a cold distance. “I see,” he says flatly, and drops his arm, widening the space between them.

***

“Warden, a word?”

Tabris looks up from the pot she’s stirring. “Of course,  _ Tesoro _ ,” she says. “What’s on your mind?”

Zevran sits nearby, careful to leave an arm’s width between them. “I would like to talk about earlier.”

She takes a deep breath. “Zev, I didn’t-”

“Did you believe I would truly harm you?” he asks. There’s an ache in his voice that he can’t hide, one she’s heard in the alienage her entire life. “That after what we have shared, I would hurt you for laughing at me?”

“Of course not! But you  _ did _ have a pretty threatening tone,” she reminds him.

“And you thought I might decide to finish my contract.” He finishes her thought before she can say it and lowers his head. “I’ve a question, if I may.”

“Of course.”

He takes a deep breath, still not looking at her. “Well, here is the thing: I swore an oath to serve you, yes? And I understand this quest you’re on and this is very fine and well. My question pertains to what you intend to do with me once this business is over. As a point of curiosity, you understand.”

“You’re oath?” she asks.

“Yes, and what you mean to do with me after.”

“Well,” she says, drawing out the word. She gives the pot another stir before leaning back on her hands. “Assuming we’re both alive, I intend to pin you to the nearest wall and ravish you in celebration.”

Some of the seriousness leaves his expression, and the skin near his eyes wrinkles as he squints, trying not to grin at her. She raises her eyebrows at him, imitating the haughty look Leliana gives merchants when they try to swindle them. It proves a good tactic because he breaks, the grin he gives her brighter than the stars above.

“Now there’s a thought,” he chuckles, wiping a hand over his mouth. “Normally I am the one doing the ravishing when it comes to comely lasses… I like it.”

“Just don’t forget who’s going to be in charge after saving the world,” she says, matching his smile. 

He scoots just a little closer, stretching out and leaning on his elbow. “Oh, my Warden, I will happily surrender now…” he murmurs, his eyes drifting lazily up and down her body. She can feel the blood rush to her skin beneath the patched and threadbare linen, burned just by his gaze. “But you are distracting me from the point.” He clears his throat loudly and looks back to her face as if it’s a struggle. “I said I would serve you until you release me.”

“Will you beg me for release?” she asks breathlessly, biting her lower lip.

Zevran wags his finger at her and sits up, laughing under his breath as he runs his hands through his hair. He’d unbraided it while bathing; she can’t help but wonder if it’s because he knows how she likes to fist her hands in it during sex. 

“There you go, distracting me again. Stop, or we will never finish our discussion,” he chides.

“All right, all right,” she sighs, sitting up straight and doing her best to put on a serious face. “You said you would serve me until I released you.”

“Yes. One simply assumes that, once your Grey Warden business is finished, you would have no need for an assassin to follow you about. Am I wrong?”

Tabris picks up the spoon and stirs the pot again, trying to hide the sudden panic squeezing her chest.  _ One day at a time, _ she reminds herself.  _ I can’t think about yesterday or tomorrow. Tomorrow I might be dead. Tomorrow he might decide he wants more than I can give him. _ “I, uh-” She swallows and takes a deep breath. “I won’t hold you to any oath,” she says softly. “You can leave whenever you like.”

The answer seems to surprise him, as he lifts his eyebrows curiously. “Oh? I made the oath willingly, but if that’s how you see it all the better. For the moment it’s still best I stay, considering my standing with the Crows.” He pauses, flicking his eyes toward Alistair’s tent and the hushed whispers coming from it before looking back to her. “But let’s assume I didn’t desire to leave when the time came,” he says softly, taking her hand and stroking his thumb over the knuckles. “What then?”

Tabris’ chest is so tight she can barely breathe, and pulls her hand away to rub between her breasts. “Well...uh…”  _ Maker’s breath, Tabris! It’s just sex- great sex, but still! It’s not like you’re in love with the fool. _

Her heart nearly stops and she looks up at him with wide eyes, trying to quell the panic.  _ That’s stupid, right? I’m  _ **_not_ ** _ in love with him. I’m a Grey Warden, and all I do is bring death to the people I love. _

He frowns and tilts his head. “Kallian?”

Shaking herself, she blinks a few times. “There’s- um- always a use or two for a handsome elf,” she stammers, busying herself with taking the pot off the fire. 

“I’m sure I could come up with a few more, if pressed,” he chuckles.

His gentle teasing breaks some of the tension in her, and she tosses her braids over her shoulder and brandishes the spoon, giving him a flirty look. “Then I’ll have to press you.”

Zevran closes the distance between them, brushing a hand across her cheek. “You have to know I would never harm you,” he says quietly. 

“I know,” she whispers.

“You do?”

She nods, looking up at him, eyes sparkling. “I asked Leliana to lock away your weapons,” she whispers. “You’ll never get them out without help.”

His low laugh moves over her like warm water from a bath as he moves closer to whisper in her ear. “You cannot be sure, I am a great thief,” he tells her, and lifts her chin for a kiss.

  
_ Andraste help me, _ she thinks, letting him lay her down as he deepens their kiss.  _ I think he might be right. _


End file.
